


Take Me Away

by VTsuion



Series: AUs Where No Man Has Gone Before [7]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Iowa, M/M, Mystery, UFOs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-20 17:36:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21285548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VTsuion/pseuds/VTsuion
Summary: Jim Kirk is stuck tending the old family farm, but he longs for the stars. And then, one night, while stargazing, he sees a UFO land in his neighbor's field.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James T. Kirk & Spock, James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: AUs Where No Man Has Gone Before [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1194531
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

Jim lay out on the back of a pickup truck in the middle of seemingly endless fields of corn. A humid breeze rustled the stalks around him, briefly rivaling the chorus of crickets chirping into the night. But he had eyes only for the stars.

Thousands upon thousands of pinprick lights filled the navy sky, each farther away and more enormous than he could begin to imagine. And in a hazy stripe directly above was the arch of the milky way. There was a whole galaxy out there, and they were barely on the outskirts. He could only imagine worlds teeming with incomprehensible alien life. What planets orbited their brightest neighbor, Sirius, “only” eight light years away? Even Mars - hanging in the sky like a bright red star - could have been home to a whole civilization of little green men and they could be none the wiser.

There was so much out there, he wondered how anyone could be content with a simple life on Earth, to never see it all for themselves. Something seemed to draw him away from the ground, beckoning him toward the stars, to the life he knew was there if only they knew how to look for it. The shimmering lights seemed to wink at him, as though inviting him to share in a private little joke, teasing him, but never quite coming close enough to touch.

He yearned to call out - he would if only he thought there was a chance someone would hear - to shout into the abyss, “Come on, take me away!”

And then he saw a light, like a shooting star, or one of the new satellites, crossing the sky.

But the light did not fade. At first he thought that maybe it was just an illusion; a star that only looked like it was moving, or an aeroplane at an odd angle, coming toward him from some great distance. It was certainly moving, but not like a plane or helicopter. And it wasn’t just crossing the sky; it was coming closer, quickly growing brighter and larger. It wasn’t really that big at all, just very close, descending toward the ground certainly less than a mile away.

It couldn’t be an alien. There had to be life out there, but he wasn’t  _ that _ lucky. It was probably some military experiment, some new equipment being tested out in the middle of nowhere. It could be dangerous, but still, he had to know for sure.

Jim threw himself out of the back of the truck, into the driver’s seat, slammed the door shut behind him, and stomped on the gas. He drove like a madman between narrow rows of corn, following the bright light in the sky. It drew closer and closer, looming larger and larger, until it dropped into one of his neighbors’ fields, setting the stalks of corn aglow with its strange cool light.

Jim pulled off the road and jumped out of the truck. He dove into the field, running through a sea of corn, toward the source of the light, even as he knew he would not find what he wanted. He only hoped there was really something there and he hadn’t just dreamed it all up.

He burst into a clearing to find what certainly appeared to be a craft of some sort. It was much smaller than a plane and definitely not a helicopter. Maybe it could have housed an astronaut for his landing back on Earth, but it didn’t look anything like the rockets or capsules Jim had seen on TV. The craft was shaped like a curved X with sweeping purple wings extending out from the center. It was made of a very smooth material that looked almost soft, though it must have been sturdy to survive the flight. He wondered if it could have been a Soviet satellite.

His heart racing, Jim circled the craft in search of some evidence of its origin. It was only a little warm to the touch and didn’t seem to be damaged at all despite how quickly it had descended. It’s landing had been practically silent.

Suddenly a loud whoosh came from the other side of the craft. Jim froze, wondering if he had inadvertently triggered some response in the vessel - who knew what sort of defenses the Soviets put on their satellites - but the sound faded and no other followed. He slowly turned around and crept back around toward the source of the noise.

The hull of the craft had opened up. Standing on a triangular flap that had peeled away from the vessel’s surface was what Jim at first took for a man in a long coat.

Jim was about to ask him how he had managed to open the craft up when he noticed the man’s pointed ears and sharply slanted eyebrows.

\--

Jim woke up to the bright light of the sunrise, unfiltered by windows or blinds. He was lying in the back of his truck - his back ached from spending a night pressed against the hard truck bed. He must have fallen asleep while stargazing.

He struggled upright and stretched out his spine. It took him a little while to realize that he wasn't on his own property. The truck was parked alongside a backroad that ran past his neighbor's fields. It was right where he'd left it- but that must have been a dream…

It was impossible, he knew it was impossible, but he leaped out of the truck and ran back through the cornfield to where he had seen the strange craft the night before. He shouldn’t have been able to find it, but the clearing of flattened stalks, a few of them charred, was difficult to miss.

* * *

Unidentified Flying Objects aside, the farm didn’t run itself - as much as Jim wished it could. He drove home, half wondering who to report an alien sighting to, if he even wanted to stir anything up about it, but after a hasty breakfast and the essential cup of coffee, his chores took precedent - this morning, going into town to run some routine errands - though whatever had happened the night before lingered in his mind.

It was a tired little town, if it could even be called that, nestled between cornfields along the highway. There were a few shops, a diner, and some offices, and the church was a little ways down the road. Everyone knew everyone else and had for generations. When Jim was younger, going into town had always been a treat. He and his older brother, Sam, would get milkshakes at the diner while their dad gossiped with the neighbors. It was livelier then.

The day was a humid one toward the end of summer. The towering grey clouds overhead threatened a stormy afternoon. The town was quiet, maybe a little quieter than usual.

“Good morning, Janice.” He waved as he passed her on the way to the general store. She was still beautiful, with golden hair and soft features, and elegant dancer’s legs that went on forever. But she didn’t have much time for dancing any more.

“‘Morning, Jim,” she said with a smile. “How’s the old family farm?”

He shrugged. “Same as ever. Just looking for a spare part. How’s Emily? Is little Julie feeling better?”

“Much better now,” she said. “I suppose you’ve missed the latest news. Emily caught it too, but she’s doing alright.”

“Good,” Jim said. “Say hi to Bill and the kids for me.”

“Will do,” Janice said, and they each continued on their way.

Most of Jim’s old flames had settled down already, or better yet, moved on from this town. Sometimes it seemed like he was the only one who hadn’t.

He was ambling down the street, lost in thought, when he spotted a man he didn’t recognize walking in the opposite direction on the other side. That in and of itself, would have been unusual enough, but stranger still, he realized that he did know that face. Jim hadn’t recognized him because he was no longer dressed in a long, hooded cloak, but in a button-down shirt and jeans, with a cap over his pointed ears, but he would know that face anywhere, long and deeply lined, with those sharp angular eyebrows.

“Hey!” Jim called out without thinking.

The man glanced over and met his eyes. He saw the flash of recognition, and then the man looked down and hurried away as though he had been caught on some top-secret mission.

For a frantic moment, Jim thought of running after him, but he remained glued to the spot, only able to stare. He could only wonder what he had gotten caught up in, but despite himself, he couldn’t let it go.

* * *

“I’m just telling you what I saw,” Jim said.

“I know, and I’m just saying that you’re crazy,” Bones retorted.

They were sitting in the doctor’s office between patients. Bones was sitting at his desk, as though for a consultation, while Jim leaned against it, half standing.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, Jim,” Bones continued. “I just think that if you had even an ounce of self-preservation, you’d run the other way and never look back. It doesn’t matter if it’s an alien or some sort of experimental aeroplane - ours or theirs - nothing good can come from snooping around. And it sounds like your mystery man doesn’t want to be followed.”

Jim sighed. “I just can’t get it out of my head…”

“If you ask me, you’re looking for trouble,” Bones said. “If you’re that desperate to get out of here, you should just sell the farm and be done with it, instead of risking your life.”

“I’m not-” Jim attempted to protest, but they both knew it fell flat. He tried again. “I just have to know. Anyway, even if I sold the farm, what would I do then?”

"I don't know, Jim," Bones said. "But I know that chasing after UFOs isn't the answer."

* * *

That night, Jim went for a drive, just to do some stargazing. He found the tallest hill around - actually an embankment along an irrigation ditch - pulled to the side of the road, and sat in the back of his truck, looking out on the endless corn fields below and the stars above. In the distance, near the horizon, he could see the cluster of lights that marked the town, and scattered amidst the fields, like a reflection of the stars in the sky, he could make out the glow of his neighbors' houses.

Slowly all the lights flickered out, first in town, and then finally in the houses, as the reasonable folks turned in for the night.

And then, Jim waited…

\--

He must have fallen asleep on his watch because the next thing he knew it was morning and his whole body ached from spending the night sitting in the back of his truck. There had been no trace of the strange vessel he'd seen the night before. He thought he had heard something whirring or beeping, but maybe it had just been a dream. However, as he gingerly stepped around to the front of the truck on still sleeping legs, he spotted a pair of footprints in the mud, as though someone had been standing just beside the truck bed. They definitely weren’t his own, and he was pretty sure they hadn’t been there the night before, but there was nothing else out of place to suggest that anyone had been there.

* * *

It all seemed so unlikely, and yet, Jim could not stop thinking about the mysterious man he had seen twice now and who may have, for some inexplicable reason stood by his truck in the night - not that he had any evidence that it had been the same man and not just a worried passerby.

Jim went out again the next night. This time he struck out in a wide circle. Every so often, he stopped and stepped out of the truck to scan the countryside for that unusual light hanging in the sky. He drove for miles until his eyes drooped and he had no choice but to stop for the night, or risk falling asleep at the wheel.

He returned home exhausted. The dogs seemed to bark even louder than usual as he stepped inside. They jumped about, greeting him eagerly. He gave each of them a pat on the head before shuffling off to bed.

He had only just lay down and closed his eyes when he was startled back into full awareness by the dogs barking again. His first thought was to turn over and hope that it would soon blow over, but the dogs seemed to give no indication of letting up, and they weren’t just barking, but growling, as though there was an intruder in the night.

Jim pushed himself upright and slipped out into the hall. The dogs were running back and forth across the house, frantically barking and growling, stopping only to scratch and leap at the door as though that would scare away whatever it was that had stirred them up.

“Quiet!” Jim attempted to regain some order, but to no avail.

He stole past the dogs - still racing back and forth so they were perpetually under foot - over to the door to peer out into the night. Dark shapes slowly coalesced and for an instant he thought he saw a flash of light in the darkness, but it could have just as easily been a trick of the shadows. He stood there a few minutes longer, searching, but there wasn’t anything there, and the dogs soon calmed. After he convinced them that it wasn’t time to go out, he was allowed at last to drift off to sleep.

* * *

Bones was probably right; he should just leave well enough alone and move on with his life. He was just looking for trouble. Everything else was nothing more than strange coincidences that he only noticed because he wanted to see them. Whatever the vessel was, it and its mysterious pilot had probably already moved on - it couldn’t take long for him to realize that there wasn’t much to see in this little town. If only Jim had run after the man when he saw him - but then what would he have done?

Jim couldn’t help but glance up at the night sky in the hope of spotting the vessel on the horizon, but he forced himself to stay home and tried to forget it all. The dogs barked a little more than usual in the night, but maybe they were just responding to his jumpiness.

A few days later, however, Jim was driving along a lonely road between here and there when he spotted an old abandoned barn sitting in the middle of an overgrown field. He didn’t think much of it at first glance, but as he drove past, it slowly dawned on him that if he wanted to hide a large, brightly colored craft, that would be just the place to put it.

It was absurd. Even if the craft and its mysterious occupant hadn’t departed days ago, the chances of running into it like this were astronomical, and it was a bad idea besides. But somehow he couldn't let it go, not when he'd come so close to  _ something _ , whatever this was.

Jim made a sharp u-turn and pulled into the field. He ploughed through the tall stalks, all the way up to the entrance to the barn. The peeling wooden door caught against the ground, but finally he managed to shove it open and was met with a rush of musty air, heavy with the smell of rotting wood.

A hulking silhouette filled most of the high-ceilinged room. At first he thought it was just a tractor, but as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, streaming in through the door and filtering through cracks in the walls and roof, he could make out the reddish-purple broadside of the strange craft. He had forgotten how unusual the material was; it looked almost soft like velvet, arched in sweeping curves, but it was hard, steely to the touch.

Jim circled the craft, examining it from all angles with wide eyes. His heart raced, expecting its mysterious inhabitant to emerge at any moment. Perhaps, if he had known more, each discovery would have evoked yet more questions, but as it was, he merely marveled at the unusual structure. Whether it was an alien ship or some experimental technology, it looked strikingly out of place in a run-down old barn, but he couldn’t imagine where it would belong.

He circled the craft again and still, the mysterious man did not appear. Jim’s fingers trailed along the smooth surface, searching for the thinnest crack that could be pried open. If he was caught, he had no excuse for trying to break into whatever it was, but he  _ needed _ to know. He pulled and pried until his fingers ached, but to no avail.

In a final burst of frustration he pounded at the unyielding wall. “I know you’re in there! Come out and-” he stopped short; he wasn’t really looking for a fight. Lamely he attempted, “I just want to talk.”

He thought he heard something creaking. He waited for the door of the craft to open with bated breath.

Of course, there was no answer.

Still, he waited. He had chores to complete back at the farm and his stomach growled at the thought of a dinner he had yet to prepare, but he could not risk the strange craft leaving, never to return. Perhaps it had already been abandoned, its job done, its owner never to return.

The light slowly faded as the sun settled on the horizon outside. He could still see a few golden licks of light creeping in between the rafters, but inside it quickly turned dark. He was contemplating going back to his truck to fetch a flashlight when the old wood gave a fearsome  _ creak _ .

Jim froze.

It was probably just the wind pulling at the old planks. He should have been more afraid of the old barn collapsing on him than anything or anyone trying to enter.

Another creak, perhaps even louder than the first. He could hear the door shifting, struggling against the dirt.

Jim ducked back behind the craft, so he could just barely see the door behind one of its arched wings.

The door groaned and scraped against the hard ground as it slid ever so slowly open. Silhouetted in the doorway, he just could make the dark figure of a man. For a moment, the man stood there, perhaps scanning the darkness as his eyes adjusted. Jim could almost feel the man’s strange sharp eyes fixed on him.

With a jolt, Jim remembered his truck, left in plain sight outside of the barn - a dead giveaway. But there was still a chance of slipping out without being noticed; if the man returned to his craft, or even if he started to search, it was dark enough that if Jim tread carefully in the opposite direction, he could be out, back in his truck before he knew it. If he was lucky the man would just hear him driving away.

But then it would all be for nothing.

Jim stole himself against all his better judgement and stepped out of his hiding place. His heart pounded as he attempted to greet the man with a sheepish smile and a friendly wave.

“You,” the man said, his voice sharp, but Jim wondered if he sounded a little uncertain. “What is it that you want?”

Jim could see him more clearly now; he was undeniably the same unusual man Jim had seen that night stepping out of the craft and then in town the other day. He was watching Jim with eyes narrowed in suspicion and a tight-lipped frown.

“I was curious,” Jim explained, though he knew it wasn’t much of an excuse. “There hasn’t been anything this interesting in town since- well, I’ve never seen anything quite like your vessel here.” He gave the craft a pat for good measure.

The man inclined his head in acknowledgement. Even dressed normally, there was something alien about him. He had a mysterious allure that held more power over Jim than he carried to admit.

When the man did not continue, Jim pressed, though he knew he was trying his luck, “What is it?”

The man hesitated, but his answer betrayed no reluctance. “It is a starship.” He held up a hand facing Jim, his thumb out and his fingers split between the middle and ring as though in a strange sign. “I come in peace.”

Jim’s eyes widened as the gears clicked into place. He had suspected, wondered, of course, but he had dismissed it as impossible. “You’re an alien.”

“Yes,” the man acknowledged.

In the words of Dr. McCoy, he said, “Well I’ll be.”

“What will you be?” The alien asked, his eyebrows quizzically raised.

Jim just shook his head. The man before him was an alien. He could hardly believe it, but it all made perfect sense - he just had to look at the starship next to him and it was obvious.

Jim remembered himself at last and said with a wry grin, “Nice to meet you. Do you have a name? I’m Jim.”

“My name is” - the alien made an indecipherable sound - “But you may call me Spock.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Spock,” Jim replied. He held out a hand to the alien.

Spock hesitated again before finally reaching out to meet him. His grasp was light, almost nervous, and very warm. For the clumsiness of the gesture, there was a tremendous weight to it; for all Jim knew, he was the first man to shake hands with an alien, welcoming him to Earth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little over a year later, a continuation for [The Pygairian](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/8468885/)!
> 
> I've also gone back and made a few major changes to the first chapter.

However long Jim stared at the unusual craft, it appeared no less astounding. Broad, soft purple wings nearly brushed the walls of the dilapidated barn; its alien curves like no vessel he had ever seen. It looked like a thing from another world, inscrutable and unreal, strikingly out of place amidst the musk of rotting wood that creaked in the wind. In the daylight, it would have seemed absurd, but now, in the dark, it was astounding.

“You are intrigued by the starship?” Spock asked carefully.

And then there was the man in front of him, deceptively human, but with sharp slanted eyebrows, accentuating inquisitive features, and elfin pointed ears beneath his knit cap. Jim had never seen anyone like him.

Jim gave him a wry smile. “You could say that.”

Spock raised his angled eyebrows and gestured toward his vessel in the suggestion of an invitation.

If this was an abduction, it was politer than any alien abduction that Jim had ever heard of or seen on the silver screen. But still, he was aware of the danger. Anyone with half a head on their shoulders could see the foolishness in accepting an invitation onto an alien ship. He would never see the ground again - if he was lucky. But Jim could hardly believe his luck.

He felt a distant pang of regret at leaving the ground behind as he answered with a grin and a wave, as though to say, “After you.”

Jim saw no mechanism by which Spock enticed the door of the craft to open. He simply stepped toward it and the mouth of the vessel unfolded, a ramp landing at their feet. Jim followed him into the darkened interior. Like the door, the lights - bright red and green, emanating from no source that Jim could discern - appeared to turn on of their own accord as Jim and Spock entered.

They passed through an irregularly curved archway, into an angular chamber with rounded corners and walls that curved in around them. It was all made of the same smooth material as the exterior, but shaped into more pronounced ledges, protruding out into what looked like rails, or maybe pipes, or opaque windows, but with no knobs or dials. In fact, the whole chamber was mostly empty, bereft of the strange alien devices Jim’s imagination had so readily conjured - certainly no examining table or alien probes. The only device, coming down in the center of the room, was what appeared to be a periscope, mounted on a console, but Jim could discern no means by which to operate it.

Spock stood by the arch through which they had entered, his hands folded behind his back, watching Jim as he stared at every line and surface in the ship, taking it all in, all too aware that this would probably be the only chance he had. Again, Spock gestured, for Jim to proceed, and he took it as an invitation to approach the periscope. He had not forgotten that he was the alien here, tampering with things he could not begin to understand, but if there was any danger, he could only presume that it would have struck already, and any remaining hesitation he may have had was driven away by the fascination of everything around him.

He peered into the periscope, but instead of looking out into the night, perhaps at the sky, or at least into the barn that they were theoretically still inside, instead he found incomprehensible glowing figures floating in darkness, that presumably meant something to Spock, but he couldn’t imagine what.

Jim stood back upright, blinking the bright spots out of his eyes. Again, his gaze swept around the room, trying to take it all in, looking for anything he could have possibly missed. For all of its alien glamor, it was remarkably empty - his mind raced ahead, already spotting an opportunity, if only he dared take it. He turned back to Spock, still observing him with an eyebrow raised.

“So, a real starship,” Jim marveled.

“Affirmative,” Spock replied. Jim thought he saw the corner of his lips turn upward in bemusement.

“What brings you all the way across the galaxy? Or did you just hop over from Mars?” Jim asked with an easy smile, though his exhilaration was palpable.

“I have come approximately 16.237 lightyears from my planet Vulcan to study the inhabitants of your planet Earth.”

“I’m one of your specimens, then?” Jim teased, though he had half a mind to hope that the alien wasn’t too intent on studying him. 

“Yes,” Spock answered unflinchingly.

“I see…” Riverside was hardly the place Jim would have chosen to study if he were an alien visiting from outer space, but he could hardly complain. Deliberately, he added, “And this is where you’ve been staying while you carry out your research?”

Spock nodded.

“It’s not what I’d call homey, but I presume it does the trick?”

“All of my needs are satisfactorily accounted for.”

Jim nodded. It wasn’t a thing to be done lightly, he barely knew the man - the alien - or what he was really on Earth to study, but Jim couldn’t pass up a chance like this. Now that he’d had a glimpse, he couldn’t let it slip away.

“If you want a closer vantage point, you’re welcome to stay with me,” he suggested as casually as you please.

Spock raised a questioning eyebrow. “You are offering me alternative accommodations?”

Jim nodded, his heart pounding in hopeful anticipation. He could hardly believe that it would actually work, but Spock appeared to be considering the possibility.

“Very well,” Spock replied at last. “Your hospitality is most generous.”

Still, when the tour was deemed complete, Jim lingered on the threshold of the ship, convinced that if he stepped through the door, it would vanish in a flash, as though it had all been nothing more than an incredible dream. His eyes flickered over to Spock, still standing beside him, watching him intently, as though Jim were the otherworldly alien - which he supposed he was, as far as Spock was concerned.

“It’s not every day I get to meet someone like you,” Jim remarked with a smile.

“Vulcans do not frequently travel to Earth.”

“No, I suppose not. Then maybe you’d better stay awhile.”

Spock inclined his head, as though to indicate that he was considering it.

Finally, when Jim could find no more excuse to linger, they stepped out, into the dilapidated barn that they had, in theory, never left.

With one last glance back at the starship, Jim got in his truck and drove home. At least the dogs were there waiting for him, doubtless wondering why he’d been away so long.

He glanced wistfully at the sky one last time before calling it a night. But beyond his wildest hopes, the starship actually had followed after him. With a pneumatic rush and a burst of bright light, it settled in his old shed, strikingly out of place amidst the tools in need of polishing and assorted odds and ends he might one day need for something.

The craft’s door unfolded and out stepped the man from Vulcan, no longer disguised in ordinary clothes. He looked even more out of place than his vessel, like an elf; tall and graceful, with pointed ears and long, flowing robes.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him and Jim realized he was staring.

Jim grinned back.

He waved Spock out of the shed and led the way into the house. The little farmhouse wasn't much, but at least it must have been more comfortable than that austere spaceship.

The dogs jumped up to greet them at the door, still barking even louder than their usual din, if it was possible. Jim hastily restrained them with a sheepish shrug for Spock.

Spock, however, seemed not to mind, eyeing them and everything else with open fascination. A strange device in his hands whirred and beeped wildly.

“Do you want anything to eat? A drink?” Jim offered, belatedly remembering his manners as the host.

Spock shook his head. “I believe I will retire to meditate, if that is acceptable.”

“Of course,” Jim replied, and showed him to the largest of the spare bedrooms - Jim’s own childhood room. “This is where you’ll be staying, if that’s alright?”

Spock examined it as he had everything else. “It will suffice.”

“Is there anything you want me to bring in from your starship?”

“No, thank you.” Spock held up a hand in the same strange gesture he had used in greeting.

Jim considered trying to emulate it, but thought better of it. Instead he replied, “It’s my pleasure. If there’s anything you need, just ask.”

Spock inclined his head.

Jim could tell that was his cue to leave, but he stood in the doorway a moment longer, unable to look away from Spock’s inquisitive deep brown eyes. He looked almost like an ordinary man, but he had an inhuman allure that Jim could not ignore.

At last, he said, “Good night, Mr. Spock,” and forced himself to turn away and return to the kitchen.

Jim fed the dogs, had a hasty cold dinner for himself, and then, with nothing else to do, he called it a night. He lay on his back in bed, staring up at the ceiling. His heart raced with the evening's excitement. It took all the willpower he had to stay in bed and not check the spare bedroom for the alien that almost certainly was not actually there.

* * *

By morning, Jim was nearly convinced that it had all been just a dream - a bit of wishful thinking. He prepared himself for disappointment as he emerged into the kitchen for his morning coffee.

To his surprise, however, the remarkably humanoid alien, still dressed in elven robes, was standing in the middle of his kitchen, examining the stove with his strange little device.

“Good morning,” Jim called out, unable to keep himself from smiling if he’d wanted to. His chest seemed to inflate in elation. “How did you sleep?”

Spock immediately righted himself and turned to meet Jim's gaze. “I slept for the requisite four hours.”

“Good, good,” Jim said, unsure what else to say to the alien standing so calmly in his kitchen. Belatedly, he remembered why he had come into the kitchen in the first place. “I was going to make myself some coffee, do you want any?”

“You are offering me a drink?” Spock sounded uncertain.

“Yeah, it helps me wake up in the morning.”

“The name does not translate into the Vulcan language, however if it is the human custom to partake in this beverage, then I will do so as well.”

“Only if you want to,” Jim attempted to clarify, but Spock was not to be dissuaded.

As it turned out Spock did not like coffee. He didn’t say as much, instead he kept sipping at his mug, grimacing ever so slightly after each sip.

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it,” Jim said, “I won’t be insulted.”

“It is illogical to have preferences,” Spock insisted, taking another clearly unpleasant sip.

Jim caught his wrist to keep him from drinking more. “What do you drink on Vulcan?”

Spock gave him the barest frown, but he answered, “I believe we have something analogous to the human drink of tea.”

“Great, I think I have some tea somewhere.” Jim got up from the kitchen table, taking Spock’s mug with him before the alien could protest, and went to rummage through the cabinets for a small stash of tea bags left over from the last time his mother had visited.

He returned with a fresh mug of tea. “I’m sure it’s nothing like what you’re used to, but hopefully it’s better than coffee.”

Spock nodded in acknowledgement and accepted the tea. When he took a sip, at least he didn’t grimace, and Jim counted it as a success.

They sat in silence a little longer, Jim drinking his coffee, and Spock still cautiously sipping his tea. Even without the caffeine, Jim would have been wide awake, but he took it slow.

At last, he couldn’t keep silent any longer. “What’s it like on your planet, Vulcan?”

Spock considered the question. “There is much less plant life. I believe it is what you would identify as a desert. Earth is much colder, with a thicker atmosphere and considerably lower gravity.”

Jim leaned in and clung to his every word, as though that alone could transport him to this alien landscape, barren, as Spock had described, but no less fascinating.

“And everyone has their own starship?”

“No. My father is an ambassador.” If Jim wasn’t mistaken, Spock seemed somewhat displeased at the thought.

Jim had to ask, “To other planets?”

“He is the ambassador to the moon of Andoria.”

“Andoira?”

“An ice moon,” Spock clarified.

Jim could only marvel, “You’ve been everywhere.”

Spock shook his head. “There is much of the galaxy that remains to be explored, and many other galaxies beyond.”

Jim grinned at the thought of being free to explore it all. “Earth must seem prehistoric to you.”

“Hardly prehistoric, but your technological achievements are comparatively primitive, promising as they are. From what I have observed, your development has taken a fascinatingly different trajectory.” 

“Why thank you, Mr. Spock.”

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him. “It was not intended as a compliment, merely a statement of fact.”

Jim only smiled back.

“This is an agricultural allotment?” Spock asked, redirecting the conversation toward his own curiosity.

“Yes, the old family farm,” Jim said with a sigh.

“And you are tasked with maintaining it and producing corn?”

“There’s no one else to look after it.”

“If you require assistance...” - Spock left the offer open.

Jim waved it off. “I manage alright, but I’d be happy to put you to work if you want to see what it’s like - for your studies.”

“Certainly, it would be a most informative experience.”

“Only if you want to,” Jim insisted.

Spock, however, was not to be deterred.

“If you’re sure. I may be able to find some old clothes that will fit you - you don’t want to do farmwork in those nice robes.”

“Thank you. It is only equitable that I provide some assistance in return for your hospitality.”

“Not at all,” Jim replied, but Spock was stubborn and so, after a quick breakfast, they both got to work.

* * *

After a few days of working and relaxing around the farm, talking about anything and everything, and enjoying the silences - and even playing a few games of chess, which Spock was much too good at not to have played before - Jim felt he could no longer excuse keeping Spock all to himself.

One evening, he suggested, “I’m thinking of inviting a friend of mine over for dinner. He’d like to meet you, and you’d get to see another human to study.”

“That would be most satisfactory,” Spock replied.

So, Jim called up Bones, and the next night he joined Jim and Spock for dinner.

“So, who’s this new friend of yours you mentioned?” Bones asked warily after the requisite “how do you do’s.”

Jim only waved him inside. Spock had made some attempt to quietly conceal himself off to the side, preferring to stand as an observer rather than to take part in the human ritual, but he had no such luck. Bones took a moment to take in Spock’s inhuman appearance, but he seemed to quickly accept it as presumably nothing more than a genetic irregularity.

“Leonard McCoy,” he introduced himself. “I’m the local quack.”

Spock’s eyes narrowed on cue. “You acknowledge that you are a dishonest doctor?”

“It’s just an expression,” Bones dismissed it roughly. “You must be the mysterious stranger everyone’s been going on about.”

Spock acknowledged the description. “You may call me Spock.”

Bones glanced over at Jim, his skepticism plain.

“And you can call old sawbones here Bones,” Jim added helpfully, earning him another look from the aforementioned.

Jim waved them both into the dining room, all set for a proper sit-down meal for the first time in longer than he cared to think.

Bones’s gaze wandered over the spread as they made themselves comfortable.

“Spock doesn’t eat meat so I’ve been experimenting a little,” Jim explained.

Dishes were passed around and plates filled and then they resumed talking between bites. Jim let Bones take the lead.

“It’s just like Jim to befriend the only visitor we’ve had come through in months,” he remarked. “I’m also an out-of-towner and Jim’s the first person who didn’t look at me like I’d grown a second head.”

Spock inclined his head. “Jim has told me that the town is somewhat parochial.”

“Mind you,” Bones added with a glance at Jim, “he’s only so eager to talk to anyone from out of town because he’s fed up with the place himself.”

“You’d be too,” Jim put in.

Bones only shrugged and turned back to Spock. “So, what brings you to Riverside of all places? Just passing through or here to stay?”

Spock hesitated. “I do not know how long I will remain. I do not intend to overextend Jim’s hospitality.”

“As I’ve said before, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. This old farmhouse is too big for me anyway” - he turned to Bones - “and he’s been a great help around the farm.”

“Jim’s put you to work?” Bones asked.

“It is the least that I can do to repay him,” Spock replied.

“I appreciate the help, but your company is its own reward.” Jim looked Spock firmly in the eye and rested his hand on Spock’s arm for emphasis.

Bones coughed.

Jim held Spock’s gaze for a moment longer and only then withdrew and met Bones’s skeptical look.

Bones rolled his eyes before turning back to Spock. “Not here on business then, I take it?”

“No,” Spock replied, “I am here to study humanity.”

“A philosopher, then?”

“My interest is more practical than philosophical. I have come to Earth to study human customs.”

“That’s your life’s mission?” Bones clarified, because he couldn’t fathom the alternative meaning.

Spock raised an eyebrow at the suggestion. “Perhaps, but I am principally seeking to better understand myself.”

Bones waved it off as more philosophy. “I’m a simple country doctor, I just want to understand how things are broken so I can fix them.”

“Medicine is a noble pursuit.”

“It runs in the family,” Bones said with a shrug. “My older brother got the family practice in Georgia, so I ended up out here.”

Spock nodded in understanding. “My father desired for me to become a scientist.”

“Where are you coming from, again?”

“The planet Vulcan,” Spock replied without blinking.

Bones did a double take, certain he hadn’t heard correctly. “What was that?”

“The planet Vulcan,” Spock answered again.

Jim was on the verge of laughter as he watched Bones’s expression change with the realization that he hadn’t misheard anything.

Bones turned on Jim. “Very funny. You don’t think I’d really fall for that alien encounter story.”

“Vulcans do not lie,” Spock replied, as a point of pride.

“Yes, I get the joke, you can call it off now.”

Jim only shrugged.

“No joke is being made,” Spock insisted.

Jim could see both of their patience beginning to wear thin and took the opportunity to intervene. “After dinner, we can show you the starship out in the shed, if that’s alright, Spock?”

Spock nodded in assent.

Bones gave Jim a skeptical look that unambiguously asked, “What are you up to now?” without saying a word. Probably for the best, however, he took the conversation in another direction and whenever Spock mentioned anything about alien worlds, Bones merely shot Jim a glare as though he was to blame.

After dinner and dessert and a good hour or so more of conversation, Bones turned again to the starship which had not been so much forgotten as merely put aside for the time being. With Spock’s repeated permission, Jim grabbed a couple flashlights and the party moved outside, along the gravel drive through darkened fields, out to the shed. With Spock’s help, he hauled the door open, and revealed, in the splotchy light of their flashlights, Spock’s starship, still as alien as it was on the night Jim had first seen it landing in his neighbor’s field.

“Well, I’ll be,” Bones declared, his drawl even more pronounced than usual.

Spock glanced at Jim in disbelief that every human apparently had the same illogical response to seeing a starship. Jim shrugged back.

“You’re trying to tell me that you really did see a UFO that night, and all that about being from another planet is true?” Bones asked.

“As I have said, Vulcans do not lie,” Spock retorted, but this time seemed a little less irritated and more smug.

Bones turned away from the starship to look at Spock again in a new light. “Those pointed ears of yours are real too then, and those eyebrows?”

Spock raised an eyebrow for emphasis. “Affirmative.”

“So Jim abducted you rather than the other way around, is that it?”

“I do not understand your human fascination with being abducted by aliens. No abduction has occurred. Jim has generously invited me to reside in his home and has been teaching me about humanity.”

“Generously,” Bones retorted, not quite under his breath. “I’m surprised Jim here didn’t flag you down himself.”

As Spock closed back up the shed, Bones drew Jim aside.

“Of all the fool things,” Bones grumbled, his voice low. “What are you playing at?”

“Just a little hospitality,” Jim replied with a smile.

“Even if he isn’t scouting for an invasion - which I haven’t counted out yet - do you really think it’s a good idea keeping him around like this?”

“No one is being kept anywhere, Doctor,” Spock cut in - his hearing, as Jim had discovered, much better than an ordinary human’s.

Bones glanced between them before settling back on Jim. “All I’m saying is are you sure that this is really the answer?”

* * *

Somehow, Spock never ceased to surprise Jim. The more Jim got to know him, the more he found himself forgetting that Spock was an elfin extraterrestrial, and instead thinking of him just as a remarkable man and a friend, unlike anyone Jim had ever known. But as the days stretched into weeks, he could only begin to wonder how much longer Spock would want to stay in Riverside before he concluded that he’d learned all it had to teach him and was ready to move on, just like everyone else did.

They were sitting out on the porch one evening, every so often tossing sticks for the dogs - Spock had even obligingly given it a go when one of the dogs had hopefully brought a choice stick up to him.

A lull had fallen in the conversation, and Jim found he could hold his peace no longer. With a sigh he said, “I suppose you’ll have to move on eventually?”

Spock quickly righted himself, as he seemed to do whenever he was put on the spot. “I do not intend to impinge upon your hospitality indefinitely.”

“No, no, stay as long as you like,” Jim insisted. Then he hesitated. “When you do return to Vulcan, would I be able to impinge on your hospitality?”

Spock’s eyes narrowed and he leaned in toward Jim almost imperceptibly, as though to more closely examine him. “You wish to accompany me?”

Jim gave him a sheepish grin. “In so many words, yes.”

“You would not be able to return to Earth for a significant length of time, many of your years,” Spock cautioned.

“I know. Bones wouldn’t be too pleased about me stranding him with the dogs, but I don’t have much to leave behind.” Jim ruefully shook his head before turning back to Spock with something of a smile. “And I’ve gotten used to your company.”

“You have no relations?”

“Not anymore. My dad went in one war and my brother followed him as soon as he was old enough. After that, mom moved to the city leaving me with the farm. I only see her once a year, if that.”

Spock inclined his head in solemn acknowledgement, his eyes fixed not on Jim, but on the space beside him. Jim was about to make an attempt to lighten the conversation when Spock said, “My mother speaks little of her family on Earth. My father met her as part of a routine survey of the planet and when he was forced to depart, she asked to return with him to Vulcan.”

“They wouldn’t mind if I returned to Vulcan with you, then?” Jim asked hopefully.

“I came to Earth without authorization and would be required to face due censure, but it would not be logical to refuse you on such an account. However, I am not yet prepared to depart. I still have much to learn, and I have some desire to see the city which my mother inhabited.” He hesitated. “And, I am not certain that I wish to return to Vulcan at all. They have no need for a being of anything less than perfect logic.”

“You seem pretty logical to me.”

“You are most kind. I find that irrespective of my original objective in coming to Earth, I would prefer to remain here - with you - for as long as you are willing to extend your hospitality.” He spoke factually, but there seemed to be a certain nervousness underlying his words, highlighting their sincerity.

Jim smiled back at him. “If you’d asked me just a couple weeks ago, I would have said I wanted nothing more than to leave the Earth behind, but with you here, even the old family farm isn’t so bad.”

Jim reached out and Spock accepted his hand, and they spent the remainder of the warm summer evening sitting together out on the porch, watching the sun slowly dip below the horizon in a blaze of color.


End file.
